Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 38: Caine: The Price of Stealing

CAINE

"No! I didn’t. She—she wouldn’t let me get near her. I swear it, High Alpha."

Fenris growls low in my head, but Jack-Eye’s hand grasps my shoulder, squeezing hard. "Caine," he says. Just my name, but his tone is full of warning.

I killed the last Alpha. Killing his successor is going to bring more trouble and headache. These are all facts I understand, but my brain is screaming, howling for a blood payment to ease my rage.

"That girl is mine," I whisper, forcing my clenched fingers to relax. The moment tension is released, his face slams to the ground again, still victim to my dominance.

Kill him, Fenris says, as if he wasn’t the one to force a promise of pacifism out of me earlier.

I shake my head, fighting to clear the red haze of bloodlust clouding my vision. The struggle is visceral—a war between my baser instincts and whatever shred of civility I’ve managed to maintain since ascending the Lycan’s throne.

It hasn’t been this hard since... A long time ago, in memories I refuse to recall.

My foot comes down on Raphael’s outstretched hand. Not an accident. Not a mistake. A deliberate, calculated expression of my fury.

Tiny bones crunch beneath my heel, bringing me a sliver of satisfaction, though my face remains blank.

Raphael grunts, jaw clenched tight, fighting to maintain dignity through the pain.

I’m not satisfied with this small display. Digging my heel in deeper, I grind against already fractured bones. Something inside me—something darker than even my normal temperament—wants to hear him break completely.

releases a high, shrill scream, I feel the barest hint of

Harper belong to?" My voice drops low, barely above a whisper. The question hangs in the

groans. "She’s yours, High

fury inside me ebbs slightly at his admission. The submission in his voice calms the savage beast clawing at my chest, at least enough

mass of prostrated wolves. Some have their faces pressed so hard against the dirt I wonder if they’re still breathing. Others tremble visibly. Terror and fury mix in a bitter, pungent odor, overpowering

filthy hands off the girl. All

frozen, without so much as a twitch in

detail I’ve missed. I scan the

oversight for a succession ceremony. While it isn’t required, it is certainly unusual for

beta died, but it’s a potential sign of trouble, leaving me uneasy. Especially when

Fenris.

skin burning as he materializes beside me, saturating the immediate vicinity with a faint haze

on the girl," I order him,

The sight of him—manifested

front of Raphael, grabbing his hair to once again bring his face level with

conversational. The contrast to

again, with

can feel my subordinates standing with him, but they remain silent, probably disapproving. I’m bringing more trouble and work onto my shoulders, but it’s impossible to hold back the rage in my head, the whispers of vengeance driving

gaze meets mine again.

he says, his voice

Lie, lie, LIE.

"After what just happened to your hand, you’re still lying to me,